


Trollavellan: A Puppy for Solas

by CommonEvilMastermind



Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/M, Project Elvhen, Troll!Lavellan, Trollavellan, puppy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-21
Updated: 2015-10-21
Packaged: 2018-04-27 09:30:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,583
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5043064
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CommonEvilMastermind/pseuds/CommonEvilMastermind
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Inspired by this Trollavellan Tumblr Post by solastolemyvenhan:</p><p>Trollavellan that allows his spies to ‘overhear’ a grand, over-the-top plan, but in truth when he shows up to put a stop to it, he finds a small wolfpup with a bow tied on top of its head.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Trollavellan: A Puppy for Solas

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Trollavellen Tumblr Post](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/151327) by solastolemyvenhan. 



“My lord?” Fen’Harel paused on the mountain path and turned. Rasa was looking behind them. “Ivun has fallen behind.”

Fen’Harel waited, not patiently. Soon enough, Ivun’s tow-headed frame came into view, huffing mildly. “Sorry, my lord,” the young elf puffed. “My sword got caught.”

This was not surprising, as Ivun insisted on wielding a two-handed great sword that was longer than his slight frame. Sometimes he hit himself on the head with it.

Rasa snorted quietly and started up the path. The rebellion’s dark-haired spymaster seemed occasionally more shadow than elf, and she had little patience for the fumbles of their new recruit. Ivun’s ears turned a bright red. Fen’Harel, despite his impatience, gave Ivun an encouraging smile. It was meant to be encouraging. Ivun gulped and turned a shade more pale.

The three continued up the winding path. “The tunnel should be just ahead,” Fen’Harel said, looking for dark shadows in the rock.

“I thought we were looking for a temple?” Ivun asked.

“During the time it was constructed, the elves of the area were under constant attack from the local human villages. Hiding the temple in a cave ensured few could find it to destroy it.” Fen’Harel said, falling easily into the rhythm of explanation.

“And the giant spiders.” Rasa called back.

Ivun gulped. “Spiders, my lord?”

“They can be quite friendly if you leave out food for them,” Fen’Harel protested mildly. “Yet I fear we must fight through them. We are pressed for time.”

“Here, lord!” Rasa stood at a rock that looked unremarkable until one stood atop it. It revealed a dark passageway winding into the mountainside.

Ivun gulped audibly. Rasa took point. They were barely fifty meters into the black when she called back. “Spiders.” She sounded almost bored.

In a rush, dozens of legs and glittering eyes burst forth. Solas threw a barrier down at his feet and let loose with a volley of fireballs. The spiders screeched in fear, falling quickly under the combined might of spells, knives, and blade.

The last one toppled to the ground with a sad squeak. “I hate spiders.” Ivun said with conviction. Fen’Harel and Rasa shared an amused look.

Fen’Harel’s barrier dissolved as he stepped forward. Peering into the tunnel, he rolled a realization around in his mind: he had cast his barrier off center. Instead of anchoring it properly, with himself in the middle, he had cast it to his left by several feet. As if to also protect another mage who stood alongside him.

“Let’s move,” The Dread Wolf snarled, striding forward into the dark. It had been over two years since they had fought side by side. She still haunted his every step – the feel of her lips when they kissed. The look on her face as he vanished through the eluvian. The way his spell unwrote her very flesh. He left her that day with half of her arm and the heart of an ancient elven god, much abused.

But under his armor, he wore the sweater she gifted him. And he still cast by instinct as if she were at his side. The part of his head that was more wolf than man stirred at this, sending wistful thoughts of den, home, mate. Solas ignored it pointedly. It whuffed to him in irritation.

“My lord?” Ivun whispered. Thanks to the acoustics of the rock, he may as well have shouted. “What are we doing here, exactly?”

Fen’Harel paused for half a step before continuing. He must have told the boy. It was impossible that he had dragged him here to this mountain passage full of fears without at least explaining why.

“We intercepted a message from the Inquisition.” Rasa’s voice floated back to them, bodiless in the black. “This temple houses a ritual that will break the eluvian.”

“What, _all_ of them?” Ivun’s voice cracked. “But that would mean-“

“Yes.” Fen’Harel confirmed shortly. They would be segmented, stranded, starving, with little way to reach the other agents of the rebellion. Their tactical advantages gone in a single stroke. It would be a blow as great as the original loss of his orb.

The three continued onwards with no more trouble than the occasional spider nest and their own fears.

“My lord?” Ivun was sweating more than exercise warranted. “Does that mean, when we get there, we’ll have to fight the Inquisition? Will we have to fight…”

Fen’Harel could fill in the silence easily enough. Cole, who would only announce himself by the slide of his knife across your neck? The Iron Bull, who could block this path with sheer muscle alone? Dorian who raised fire and the dead with equal measure, Varric and his Bianca? The Divine Victoria, who still wielded her sword with deadly grace? Or worst of all, Lavellan herself. The Herald of Andraste, The Lady Inquisitor, Commander of Skyhold. His beloved.

 _Pack,_ snorted his wolf-self. _Mate!_

“No.” Fen’Harel told them all. “No. We will arrive long before, break the critical components they need, and leave. That is all.” Then, more kindly. “I would not bring you here to die, Ivun.” That the boy had not asked earlier spoke to both his loyalty and his bravery – though not, perhaps, his intelligence.

“Light ahead,” Rasa warned. Fen’Harel saw it – old magics, awakened at their approach? Lavellan, arrived before him?

“Wait here.” Fen’Harel warned. He called to the Fade with a low hum in his bones and wrapped himself in shadows like a soldier would a cloak. The light was yellow-orange: flame, then, not veilfire. Ivun’s worried breath at his back was the only sound.

The tunnel curved, then straightened suddenly and Fen’Harel blinked. A dead end. No temple, no eluvian, no soldiers, no Lavellan. Just a smooth sandy floor and a few torches, crackling merrily. And in the exact center was a large wooden box.

Fen’Harel approached it warily, a sinking feeling in his gut. It couldn’t be. He reached out and tested it with his magic. Nothing. It couldn’t be. Their information. The reports they intercepted, codes they had broken. It couldn’t-

He flipped the top off the crate in one sharp gesture, standing far off to the side. Was it empty? No. Oh, no. As he peered in, two sky-blue eyes looked up to meet him and something furry lunged forward. Solas’ face was suddenly wet.

It was a _puppy._

It was a _wolf puppy._

Or almost. Fen’Haral studied the white ball of fur from a safer distance. He had little experience with real wolf pups, but he was fairly sure they did not sit quietly in a crate. Even one with a pile of straw, food, and water. The box was not yet fragrant – how long had it been here? Minutes? Hours, at most?

The pup yipped, impatient with its new friend. Solas heard Rasa’s voice from down the tunnel, slightly stunned. “Was that…?”

“My lord?” Ivun called.

“Another gift,” Fen’Harel replied, fighting to hide the smile in his voice. “From our Inquisition friends.” He picked up the wriggling ball and cradled it to his chest. The pup squirmed in joy, needle-sharp claws clicking against his armor. It tried its hardest to give The Dread Wolf’s ears a bath.

“A Fenmyelan.” Rasa breathed in wonder at the entrance to the cave. “I never thought to see one.”

“Is it a true wolf, then?” Solas fought to assume the stern mask of the leader of the elven rebellion. It proved difficult while fending off a puppy.

Rasa shook her head. “They are said to be descended from the wolf-companions of the knights of Halamshiral. Only a few clans still breed them, but they stay only in their forests, and they treat the Fenmyelan as their own kin.”

Ivun blinked in surprise. Fen’Harel agreed. That was the most he had heard from his spymaster in one breath since they had met.

“Hold it” He held his wriggly companion to Rasa. “I want to take a closer look at the crate.” Rasa held out her hands but the ball of fur changed demeanor completely, growling and snapping.

Rasa withdrew. Was that a faint smile on her face? “It seems to have been bonded to your scent, lord. They train the pups to respond to one and only one handler before they ever leave their mother.”

Solas looked down at his armful and got a lick on the nose for his efforts. “Tuanuelanian,” he named it, scolding. “Little troublemaker.” A cursory examination proved that his companion was female, solid white except for a wet black nose, pink pads of her paws, and those shocking blue eyes. She gnawed on his finger in contentment.

“Is there anything else in the crate?” He attempted to put some semblance of authority back into his tone. Ivun rummaged through the straw.

“There’s this!” The young elf held up the sad remains of a blue satin bow, bearing the obvious signs of the pup’s affection. A small metal medallion dangled from its length. Ivun peered at it. “I don’t know what it says.”

Solas balanced his burden and held out a hand. The medallion was cool to the touch and inscribed with the script of ancient Arlathan. One side said, _My name is Fen’an._ The other, _I belong to Lavellan’s heart._

By the time the four of them left the cave, the sun had set. Night in the mountains was cold, but Fen’Harel called warming spells for only his companions. Fen’an, sleeping inside of his sweater, gave off heat enough.

**Author's Note:**

> Fenmyelan: follower of the wolf. From the words: fen (wolf) + myelan (follower).  
> Tuanuelanian: little troublemaker, affectionately. From the words: tua (to make, to cause, to create) + nuem (troubled, upset, hurt) + -ain (diminutive suffix meaning a child version, or childlike, or a cute something).  
> Fen’an: someone who has the heart of a wolf, lit. "wolf heart". From the words: fen (wolf) + vhen'an (heart).
> 
> Names and translations all via Project Elvhen. May the Creators bless their fuzzy socks for all eternity.
> 
> Unbeta'd. Kick me where I messed up. Requests welcome.


End file.
